


Mirage

by baskin_robbins



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Bottom Jung Wooyoung, Canon Compliant, Dream Sex, I don't know how ao3 works, M/M, Pining, Smut, Top Choi San, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 15:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30091380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baskin_robbins/pseuds/baskin_robbins
Summary: San would never look at him like this in real life. He’d never touch him like this. He’d never play with Wooyoung’s body like this. If Wooyoung could only have Sanlike thisin his dreams, then so be it.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	Mirage

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Shitty writing. I can’t think of anything else that warrants a warning. If anything is under-tagged, plz leave a comment, and I’ll go in and change it. 
> 
> This is fiction.

Ever since Wooyoung was little, he could remember his dreams. 

To others, dreams are like faded memories—too vague and fuzzy to relive, and the details all just out of reach. In some cases, that’s a blessing. That way, nightmares can fall away within minutes,  _ seconds, _ after waking up. 

But to Wooyoung, he can remember them all. 

They play like movies in his head, everything crisp and intense. He remembers how his dreams make him  _ feel, _ both physically and emotionally. He remembers  _ everything. _ He knows what it feels like to fly, but he also knows the panic and desperation of  _ falling. _ The nightmares never disappear. 

Eventually, as he grew older, he learned how to lucid dream. 

He never does much in his dreams. Controlling them is difficult, and most nights, he just lets the dreams unfold as usual, only flipping his pilot switch on if anything turns dark or dangerous in his mind. It’s a nice balance he’s been able to keep over the course of his life. 

Among the Ateez members, only Yeosang knows he can do this. There’s never a reason to hide it, but at the same time, there’s never a reason to bring it up. When it comes to his relationship with the members, his dreams have nothing to do with them. With harsh schedules and sore muscles, he spends his dreams relaxing on cruises or just getting some needed rest. 

That is, until he stumbled upon a random post about lucid dream sex. 

He had always felt guilty for having feelings for one of his teammates, so when his mind went racing at the concept of…  _ that,  _ he felt ten times worse about it. 

Wooyoung would never cross that line. He  _ couldn’t. _ Masturbating with the thoughts of pretty,  _ familiar _ lips over his cock was bad enough. He could only stoop so low. 

So he clicked off his phone and forgot about it. Or rather, he forced it from his mind and didn’t let himself think of how much he, daresay,  _ wanted _ to try it. 

That was weeks ago. 

Wooyoung wakes up with a splitting headache, already wishing he’s back on Jeju Island, listening to the ocean waves and staring up at the birds flying overhead. 

Thankfully, in the midst of promotional activities for the new comeback, they only have one stage today. He’ll get a nice break afterward, and just maybe, their manager will treat them to dinner. The day would be perfect if not for his aching headache. 

Yeosang and Jongho are already awake, if their empty beds say anything, so Wooyoung lazily stretches up before quickly hopping to his feet and finding something to eat. 

Hongjoong and Yunho are in the kitchen, and Wooyoung mumbles a quick hello before he sits with them, rubbing at his eyes and pretending his dark circles don’t exist. 

“Wooyoung-ah, are you ready for today? How are you feeling?” 

There Hongjoong goes: Their ever-observant leader to the rescue. 

“Just a small headache. I’m fine.” 

Hongjoong smiles and goes to fetch some aspirin. 

What did Wooyoung do to deserve him? 

Yunho laughs, munching on his cereal as he watches the two talk. His hair is fluffed up, eyes bright, and Wooyoung’s mood immediately improves. Yunho just has that kind of effect on people. 

“The others are already on their way to Music Bank. Hongjoong was actually about to go wake you up,” Yunho says. He has a milk mustache above his upper lip, and Wooyoung can’t help but snigger at him. 

“The dorms do feel quiet right now.” 

Hongjoong returns with the meds, and Wooyoung takes them gratefully. “It’s time to get going. Do you mind eating on the way there? We’re already late,” Hongjoong says.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

Wooyoung rushes to clean himself up, and soon enough, they are in the usual van on their way to the music show. Checking his phone now, he realizes they are  _ way _ behind schedule. The three members still need to get styled, and that’s  _ after _ the run-throughs they usually have beforehand. Looking at the time now, it seems like they’ll have to perform cold. 

His stomach churns at the thought, and he glances up at Hongjoong. 

“Why did you guys let me sleep in so late? There’s no time to rehearse before the show.” 

Yunho looks over at him and smiled. “Sannie suggested it. He said you looked tired yesterday. We’re all well prepared, though, so don’t worry.” 

Wooyoung’s heart tugs a little, and he bites his lip. 

_ Of course it was  _ San’s  _ idea.  _

They arrive at the building and are let out of the van soon after. It’s a rush to get to the dressing rooms. The other members are presumably already styled and ready to go. Wooyoung is quickly fitted into a familiar shredded jacket, and he realizes they are wearing the main outfits from the mv for today’s stage. 

Good. He liked his fit. It’s comfortable, and while it’s a little bulky to dance in, he thinks it suits him. 

As he sits to get his makeup and hair styled, he notices the dressing room is close to vacant. The other members are god knows where, and Wooyoung internally fistbumps the air. He can only stand so much of San’s abs in his face and Yeosang snickering in his peripheral. 

The truth is: this promotional era is going to give him a heart attack. 

Wooyoung caught feelings in answer era. Or, at least, that’s when he figured out what was going on with himself. He has no idea how long his feelings have been there. All he knows is that every time San walks in the room, the chemicals in his brain shoot up and make him want to walk over and kiss him. Or pat his fluffy,  _ pink _ hair. It’s been torture. He even tried distancing himself, or,  _ fuck, _ acting straight up  _ cold _ to San. But it never works. When they fight, Wooyoung can only think about how it would feel if San pushed him against the wall, or attacked him with his lips instead of his words. 

So Wooyoung stopped trying to fight him. 

But now  _ isn’t _ the time to think about San. He has other things to worry about, like today’s performance.  _ Fuck, _ they didn’t have rehearsals. What if the stage was slippery? What if their spacing goes off, or the camera angles are all new? It’ll be Wooyoung’s fault for sleeping in. 

The stylists finish with him, and he’s left to his own thoughts. Yunho is giving him worried glances from the side of the room, and Wooyoung decides to get some fresh air. 

It’s a quick trip to the bathroom. He doesn’t actually need to go, but walking around might distract him for a bit. Plus, sometimes he can run across idols in the hallways. It’s fun to make friends from other groups. 

However, he makes it there without bumping into any familiar faces, and to top it all off, he finds the last person he wants to see there, almost like he was waiting for him. 

San is leaning against the counter when Wooyoung walks in, scrolling idly on his phone. There’s no one else there, and San’s eyes are wide when he sees him. 

“Oh.. hey,” Wooyoung mutters. 

“Hey…” San smiles, and Wooyoung wants to bury himself in his dimples and  _ die. _

“What are you doing here?” 

“Hiding. What else?” San gestures to his stomach with a slight grimace, and  _ no, _ Wooyoung is  _ not _ going to look. 

It’s not like he hasn’t seen San like this before. San walks around the dorms shirtless more than enough, but it  _ feels different  _ somehow, out in public. Wooyoung doesn’t know how to explain it, but the way San walks around all styled up and abs on display  _ does things  _ to him. 

Wooyoung takes a deep breath through his nose and smiles. It’s small, but he hopes it’s at least somewhat reassuring. For himself or San, he doesn’t know. 

“You look fine, San. Atinys love it.” It’s not his best reassurance, but his brain is fried and while it’s still morning, Wooyoung needs a nap. 

“I know they do, but it’s different offstage.” San turns to the mirror and pouts at his reflection, avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes. 

Wooyoung hates it when San gets sulky. Because sulky-San is  _ cute,  _ and no man with a body like that has the right to be cute. 

Of course, Wooyoung is joking, but his point still stands. 

With a sigh, Wooyoung walks over and hooks his chin over San’s shoulder, forcing San to look at him in the mirror. He hopes the touch will make San stop pouting, just for a  _ second. _ And it does. San presses his lips together now, making them smaller and curving them like one of those cute cartoon cats. He’s trying to make Wooyoung smile too, so he offers another small one. Satisfied, San brings a hand up and pats Wooyoung’s head. 

Wooyoung doesn’t know what makes him do it- it’s without thought, his fingers locking over San’s stomach in a habit built over long years of skinship. For a split second, he forgets about San’s outfit and freezes as his hands come in contact with bare skin. 

San goes stiff for a moment. He glances over his shoulder at Wooyoung before a smile plays on his lips and his hands rest on top of Wooyoung’s. 

“I hope you don’t mind getting oil on your hands,” San says, his demeanor thankfully back to normal, and Wooyoung’s panic subsides when he sees San isn’t bothered by his actions. 

“I’m sure our stylists wouldn’t mind greasing you up again,” Wooyoung mutters, and his head spins as San’s abs flex under his palms. 

“Let’s hope they don’t notice then, yeah?” San leans back against Wooyoung’s shoulder with a small chuckle, making Wooyoung’s hands slide up higher on his body. 

_ How the fuck did he get himself into this situation?  _

Wooyoung stares at the mirror, and he knows it’ll get obvious soon, but he can’t help it. San presses back,  _ closer _ , and Wooyoung can  _ feel _ him holding back a laugh. Wooyoung doesn’t find anything funny about this. It’s fucking terrifying. 

He carefully sets his expression neutral, making sure his eyes stop bulging out of his head. 

But San  _ always  _ finds ways to get under his skin, and today, it’s by lacing their fingers together and playfully dragging Wooyoung’s palms across his midriff. 

“Are you excited for the performance?” San asks, a hint of mirth in his voice. 

Wooyoung swallows back a cough. “More nervous than anything,” he mumbles. “You guys should have woken me up.” 

San hums and grows heavier in Wooyoung’s arms, leaning back and putting more weight against Wooyoung’s chest. His eyes are closed now, and Wooyoung feels like the room grew ten degrees hotter in the span of a second. 

San’s arms drop to his sides, and Wooyoung is given free reign. He freezes, suddenly _so_ _aware_ that he has an armful of _San_ against him. He has to remind himself to breathe _._

After a minute or two, he forces himself to relax. But San is pliant under his grip now, and Wooyoung can’t help but let his hands drift. He marvels at the hot muscles under the pads of his fingers, the raised brow he can see on San’s face in the mirror. He should probably stop, but it’s hard when the lines of San’s stomach are finally within his reach.

San’s face morphs from one of contentment to something  _ else.  _ His eyes are open now, and they’re staring Wooyoung down. Wooyoung’s breath hitches, and he rests his hands on San’s waist, the image burning into his memory for later use. 

“I didn’t say for you to stop,” San says, and Wooyoung thinks he’s going to combust. 

He freezes again for a few seconds before his hands move again, almost on their own. He’s shaking, withering away under San’s stare, and he feels like he’s being held at gunpoint as he presses his fingers back against San’s stomach. 

Wooyoung averts his eyes, biting his bottom lip. It’s more of a nervous tick than anything, needing something to focus on besides how hot he feels from the contact. The jacket really isn’t helping.

San is silent until Wooyoung’s hands slip under his cropped top. His eyes, so intense a few seconds prior, grow wide, and panic flashes across his face. 

“Ah, um, I think that’s enough.” San gently grabs Wooyoung’s wrists and pulls them away. “We should probably get back, anyway. They’re probably looking for us..” 

Wooyoung jerks away from him, eyes suddenly wide, and he nods. “I- yeah, I mean… we should go…” He gulps, the air feeling heavy around them, and he shuffles away. “I should probably…” he points awkwardly at the sink, noticing that he did, in fact, get oil all over his hands. 

San nods, and his cheeks are tinted pink like his hair. “I’ll meet you by the stage, then?” 

“Yeah.” 

  
  


Despite Wooyoung’s worries, their performance goes smoothly. They don’t have any injuries, and it only requires two takes to nail everything. They have the rest of the day off, and Wooyoung can’t be happier. 

He and San don’t talk about what happened in the bathroom. How can they? It’s not like anything really  _ significant _ happened. It’s just… 

Wooyoung can’t stop thinking about it. All day, he can’t stop running over the images in his mind. He can’t stop blinking and finding himself back in that bathroom, wrapped around his best friend. Except in his head, his hands are dipping below San’s waistband instead… 

Oh god. 

Will it really be so bad if he dreams San up in his sleep? It’s not like anyone has to know, and his roommates won’t be sleeping in the room tonight. Wooyoung rarely gets the room to himself, and who knows when it will happen again? 

That’s what he tells himself as he gets ready for bed that night, the moral conflict clashing in his head as he sinks into his sheets. 

But it’s not like it’ll be real, right? Everyone has a wet dream about someone at least once in their life. Wooyoung’s will just be… more intense. 

And in his control. 

_ God. _

Wooyoung palms over his dick through his briefs, embarrassingly half hard just from thinking about it. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t had any action since, well, their trainee days, which is so fucking long ago. 

He makes up his mind and stops, leaving himself hard and aching. He rolls onto his side and curls into himself, a soft whine escaping his lips. 

_ Save it for the dream. Save it for the dream.  _

That’s what he tells himself as he lays there, forcing himself to drift off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sry for cutting it off. Next ch with smutty stuff will be sometime next week at the latest. Hope you look forward to it!


End file.
